When Soul Meets Body
by lovemuffinjade
Summary: King Peter deals with a sister's attempts at matchmaking and someone he didn't expect. This is my first fic here, so please be gentle! R&R is lovely, of course. Not sure about the rating, chose M just to be safe.
1. Chapter 1

This was an idea I had that I thought was fun, and I decided to set it in Narnia with those lovely siblings we all know and love. I read _The Lion, The Witch, and the Wardrobe_ when I was nine, so I don't know much about the books. I did my best. I also made up a lot of characters and a place. Please understand that I mostly did so to prevent myself from making a zillion factual errors.

Thanks a lot!

Feel free to review. Loved it, hated it with the passion of a thousand suns, let me know. Thanks!

I

The High King of Narnia was sitting on the beach when it occurred to him that he wanted to go sailing. Not for recreation, the way some do, with their little sailboats that fly on top of the water. He wanted to captain a ship. Sand was creeping underneath his clothes and between his toes, and we cradled some salty, dark water in the palm of his right hand. He squinted and started into the horizon. The sunlight reflected off the water and into his eyes. The purples and yellows of the sunset begged him not to leave, and he was all too eager to acquiesce. He had no desire to return to the hectic business of Cair Paravel.

Behind him, his horse lifted her hooves and neighed softly. Peter turned his head and saw a young woman walking towards him, the sounds of her footsteps absorbed by the sand. It always astonished him to see his little sister growing into a woman, and in the waning sunlight, she was a vision. She smiled when she saw him and broke into a run, sliding next to him and brushing sand over him. He laughed as she settled herself next to him.

"I was going to scare you. Your stupid horse ruined it."

Peter only shook his head. "Oh, she was only trying to protect me, weren't you, Penny?"

The brown stallion blew air out of her nostrils in reply, and Peter rubbed her coat fondly. "What are you doing out here in the first place, Lucy?"

"Susan was asking for you. I think she's mad at you."

Peter laughed. "Isn't she always, though?"

Lucy laughed, but nervously. She stood up and lifted her skirts, letting the tips of her feet touch the foam from the waves. "You know, lately she's been thinking that..." She trailed off and made a motion with her hands, the hems of her skirts darkening with water. Every wave that reached the shore left a mark on her ankles where it had touched her, and she rubbed the excess salt off with her hands.

"Thinking what, Luc?"

She plopped herself down next to him again. Her brown hair was lifted a little by the wind, and Peter tugged on a clump of it, causing her to shriek in fake pain.

"Peter! Well now I really won't tell you."

Peter only sat and waited. He knew that if he didn't press her, she would tell him. And she did.

"I think Susan thinks that it's high time each of us got married."

Peter's mouth fell open in shock. "Married? You're not even a proper woman yet! You're only sixteen!"

"She met Taylor when she was fifteen, Peter. She says that with the war over, now would be a good time to make some 'smart matches,' as she calls them."

Peter could feel his anger rising in his chest. He stood up and lifted Lucy onto Penny against her protests and lifted himself behind her. "Don't worry, Lucy, I'll get this all straightened out for you. I'm surprised Susan wouldn't come to me personally about this."

He pushed his foot into Penny's side and urged her into a gallop, Lucy's long hair blowing into his face.

"Peter, slow down!" Lucy yelled, but he did not hear her. He heard the wind, he heard the crashing of the waves. And he heard Susan's laughter, even before he stepped foot into the castle.

He walked past the guards in front of Susan's bedchamber and opened the door with such a fury that it looked like it would snap in half like a twig.

"Taylor, leave us!" Susan's husband gave him a deep bow which Peter returned before he left, closing the door gently behind him.

She stood up. "How dare you intrude like this! I'm not a child anymore, Peter. I'm quite a woman now, if you haven't yet noticed."

"I, Susan? How dare I do this to you? Do you realize that you are using our sister as a political tool? Why did you marry Taylor?" he demanded from her.

She looked at her feet and wrung the sleeve of her dress in her hands before shaking her head. She looked back up at him. "Because we were in love."

He softened his expression. "Exactly. You were so happy you cried. Do you remember?"

She smiled at her brother, wondering how he was always right. She sat down lightly on her bed and Peter watched her replay her wedding day in her mind's eye. "Yes," she said. "I remember."

"Don't you want Lucy to feel that happy?" He sank into a chair and allowed himself to slouch. "Don't you want me to, Susan? Shouldn't it be more than just a 'smart match'?" He put his hand on his face, rubbing his forehead.

"Peter, you know how important your happiness is to me. But can you at least listen to what I have in mind?"

"Fine," he replied coldly, "but don't expect me to like it."

She pursed her lips. "Well, I haven't really thought of anyone for you yet, but for Lucy, I was thinking that Lucy and Prince Steven would make a lovely couple. He's very handsome, you know, and I've heard that he's extremely agreeable."

Peter laughed out loud, causing Susan to frown, and he didn't stop when he saw her face. "Sue, you know that that would be dreadful. He's dreadful. She's far too intelligent for him."

She stood up. "Peter, it wouldn't hurt for them to at least meet. I don't care how, but I want it to happen. Excuse me."

"You know, I don't really have to listen to you," Peter muttered as she walked past. His hair fluttered in the wind she caused, and he felt the chair shake when she slammed the door. He was now alone in his sister's bedchamber, left with the job of talking to Lucy. He wondered how she would react. If she would feel betrayed by her eldest brother, who had protected her for as far back as she could remember. But now he had his people to think of. They all did.

"Must she always leave me the difficult part?" he said out loud, sliding farther down into his chair. He looked out the window, and he could see the ocean. It was dark now. On the horizon, he saw lightning, and he thought that even enduring that might be better than what he had to do. He sighed and stood up, taking the first few steps toward breaking his sister's heart.


	2. Chapter 2

II

He hadn't found her in her bedchamber. She was play-dueling with Edmund. Seeing them act like children again made him forget his anger, and forget why he had sought her out to begin with. He had joined them, helping Lucy who was losing miserably to Edmund. They all arrived to dinner sweaty and red-cheeked, and upon seeing them, Susan declared that she would be eating with her husband alone. Edmund made a face at her back.

She leaned over to Peter's ear. "I suppose you haven't talk to her, then?"

Peter's face darkened to scarlet as he stood. "Why must I do this, Sue? I don't even want this. It doesn't even make any bloody sense!"

Lucy giggled and Peter's head shot over to where she was sitting. She looked so innocent, staring at him with her big brown eyes, the ones he had seen cry countless times, the ones that told him things her words couldn't do justice, the ones he had always gone to for comfort. He took a deep breath.

"I don't have to explain to you how important this is," Susan whispered harshly. She inched closer to him. "It wouldn't be so bad coming from you, Pete." She looked up at her younger siblings. "See you later, guys."

Peter sat down and Edmund laughed, his mouth full of food. "She thinks she's so much better than us because she's married. What's so great about being married, anyway?"

"Well, I would imagine that it must be great fun deciding whether to hang the green curtains... or the red." Lucy held up her hands and stared at each intently, her brow furrowing.

"But, darling," Edmund joined, "they're both so, so lovely, I just can't pick one!" He batted his eyelashes and tilted his head, raising his voice as best he could.

Lucy's giggles opened into laughter. "But sweetness, I so loved the red!"

"My love, my love! Whatever shall we do??"

"I don't know, darling, I don't know!" Lucy was now howling with laughter, leaning over the table, clutching her belly in pain, her hair falling into her plate.

Peter couldn't suppress his smiles, and coughed to try to regain his composure.

"Guys, cut it out. Sit up, Lucy." He could already see Susan getting upset over this later, because he was sure she was listening at the door. As it was, he could see the servants around the table laughing and talking amongst themselves. He loved his siblings and he loved to joke around with them, but sometimes they just didn't understand when they needed to act even a little bit refined.

Lucy stuck her tongue out at Peter and began to eat. "You're so boring," she said between mouthfuls.

Peter was about to retort, but Edmund cut in first. "I'll never get married," he announced. "I'm just lucky I'm not so important as you two seem to be."

Peter frowned. Things were changing between his siblings and himself, and he didn't know how to deal with it. It made him uncomfortable. He wasn't always right anymore. More and more he found himself on the beach, alone, with the occasional but rare accompaniment of Lucy. He didn't know what to say to his brother, who was becoming more headstrong with each passing day. He pushed a piece of meat in his mouth and tried to make sure that the rest of the conversation stayed away from marriage. And curtains.

He decided to talk to her before she went to bed for the night. He paced in front of her door to give her time to change, again trying to decide what to say, changing it for the umpteenth time. Finally, when he decided that she may be done, he knocked lightly on the door with two knuckles, turning an ear to the door so he could hear. "Luc? Can I come in?"

"Um..." He heard her fumbling around, he heard whispers, he heard her lady-in-waiting laugh. "Okay," she said, after a time.

He turned the knob and walked in. "Wow," he said. "It looks different."

She smiled. "I'm different. It's been a long time since you've visited me."

"Well, you always came to me first. I never could get over here fast enough. Or else you woke me up in the middle of the night." He chuckled and took a look around the room. Where there were once wooden toys, dolls, there were now ribbons, makeup, dresses, mirrors. All the things a young lady's room should have, and it saddened him. Standing next to his sister, her face glowing in the artificial light, he knew that soon she would be married, and he would be alone, without his best friend. He sighed. "You must know why I'm here."

"I have an idea," she said knowingly. "Sit down, Pete," she said as she jumped onto her bed, which had also grown since the last time he saw her room. "Just say it."

He sat down in wooden rocking chair beside the only lamp in the room, which he recalled vividly. If ever Lucy had a nightmare, had been frightened, anything, he only had to sit with her in the chair, rock her, and tell her a story to ease her tension. Now he rocked himself, hoping it would have the same affect on him it always had on her. "Well, Susan told me who she's thinking of ... who she thinks you might like."

"Oh, Peter. Don't bother. We both know I'm being married off." She smiled. "It's okay. We have more people to think of than just ourselves now."

"That's true, Luc. But right now she only wants you to meet him. Prince Steven, King Jason's son. I'm sure you remember the chaos his father caused on Polliere last year."

Lucy laughed. "That poor little island almost sunk!"

"Yes, well, that poor little island has a poor little prince that has asked for your hand in marriage."

Lucy stopped laughing, but she didn't stop smiling, exactly. "Well, I'm irresistible, right?"

Peter shook his head, brushing off her comment. "Lucy, he wants you there in two days. He's said that if you are going to deny him, he wants it to happen in person. Susan thought it was a good idea to appease him, and tomorrow we'll be leaving for the pathetic mass that is Polliere Island."

"Tomorrow?!" She suddenly stood up and put her hands on her face, and Peter could tell that she was caught off guard with how suddenly it was all happening.

"I know that this is hard Luc, but all you have to do is get on a ship with us, tell this guy that you don't want to marry him, and come home." He paused. "And Lucy, I'll have to go through this soon too, if it makes you feel any better. Susan's already planning a wedding at the end of the summer."

Lucy gasped. "To whom?"

Peter smiled. "She hasn't picked anyone out yet. But she's set on marrying me by the end of this summer. She says it's pitiful that Narnia has a twenty-one-year old, unmarried High King."

Lucy lifted the sheets and crawled into her bed. "You'll be coming with me, right Peter?"

He smiled and walked over to the bed. "Of course, Luc. I couldn't send you off all alone." He flicked her cheekbone.

"Ow!" she said, and pouted in his direction.

He smiled, a genuine smile that took over his entire face. "Still hurts, I see."

She rubbed her cheek and only pouted more. "No it didn't," she protested.

Peter only shook his head and kissed her hair lightly. "Go to sleep. Tomorrow's going to be a long day for you. Good night."

"Goodnight," she replied softly. She shut her eyes and was asleep before he left the room. He looked back at her. She looked years younger when she was asleep. He hoped she was dreaming of something better than this, and left.


	3. Chapter 3

III

Peter stood on the deck feeling thoroughly unhappy. He'd always felt comfortable in the ocean. The rocking of the waves, the salty smell, the constant sound of water hitting water, it all came together to soothe him. He wasn't exactly sure how to feel. He would finally get away: no land in sight, just him, his family, the crew. But was he going into another sort of trap?

He heard some faint yelling and he turned to see Susan standing on the shore, waving her arms. She looked so small, and Peter laughed to himself thinking about it. He started towards the beach, and she ran toward him in her excitement.

"Peter, this is all going so perfectly! Lucy doesn't even seem to mind at all."

Peter didn't acknowledge this with a response. "The captain says everything is ready. I guess we'll be leaving soon." He squinted into the sun and allowed his hair to fall into his eyes.

"You know what everyone is supposed to wear, right?"

He nodded, biting the inside of his lip.

"Don't be mad, Peter. I'm only doing what I think is best for everyone. I couldn't bear sending you off angry."

He looked at her blankly. "I'm not mad, Sue. Just disappointed. We're all supposed to be working together, and you did this alone without including any of us." Then he smiled. "But you know I love you. I'll miss you." He hugged her tightly. "Take care of yourself. I want you in better spirits when I return."

She pushed him away playfully. "I'm in a perfectly good mood."

He rolled his eyes. "Whatever you say, Susie."

She groaned. "You know I hate when you call me that."

His smile grew. "Yeah, I do."

Lucy came running over to them, stopping short in the sand, spraying it over both of them. Susan squealed, trying to shake the tiny grains from her long, straight hair. "Are we leaving yet, Peter?" the younger of his sisters asked.

"In a few minutes, Lucy. You can go wait for me on board if you'd like." In a matter of hours, Lucy's behavior had turned from solemn and quiet to excited and cheerful. Peter didn't know what- or who- had affecter her mood so dramatically.

"Okay," she said. She crashed into Susan, her arms flying around her slender body in an almost violent embrace. "I'm gonna miss you!"

Susan fondly put her arms around the girl, closing her eyes and smiling. "Good luck, Lucy. I know that whatever you do will be the right choice. I trust your judgment."

"I love you, Susan."

"I love you too, Lucy." She placed a kiss on her head, prying her arms from around her, laughing. "But it is time for you to go now, honey. You'll be back soon enough."

Edmund came up behind Lucy and gently pulled her small body away from Susan's. "My turn," he said. He hugged her, squeezing all the air out of her, lifting her feet off the ground, making her groan in annoyance.

"Okay, Ed. I'll miss you too. That's enough now."

Edmund dropped her to the ground, snickered, and ruffled her hair. "See you later, Susie."

She made a face at him, fixed her hair, and then walked to the ship with them. Once they were all on deck, Peter saw Taylor come up to her and hold her hand, and sea spray blew into his face while she wiped tears away from her eyes. Peter laughed out loud. He knew Susan could get sentimental, but the ways it showed itself never ceased to amaze him. His brother and sister joined him to wave goodbye, and the wind picked up as the ship set sail.

It took five days to reach the little island. For the first three days, Edmund was confined to his bathroom, the sea having disagreed with him. Peter would check on him now and again, but preferred to stay where he could feel the wind on his cheeks, where he could see the ocean in every direction. Often he was with Lucy, and sometimes a friend of hers in the crew, Eric, would join them. He was a tall, skinny boy of seventeen with jet black hair and clear blue eyes like rain, and he loved to dance. In their last night at sea, the crew members brought out their instruments, and Eric taught Lucy how to dance.

Lights were strung around the deck, the men and women of the crew stood circled, clapping and stomping, and one man plucked the strings of his violin lovingly, jolting and swaying with the rhythm. Lucy stood in the center, one hand over her face, the other being held up by a beaming Eric, the wet, chipped wood they stood on illuminated by the full, orange moon. Lucy was uncomfortable with this new style of dancing, but felt safe with Eric. Peter knew that Susan would not approve of the way he slid his hands over her hips, how he touched his nose to hers, the way she smiled when he spun and twirled her in his arms. But he could feel her happiness from where he stood, and let her grab hold of her happiness while she still could.

A young lady from the crew suddenly appeared in front of him, her hand held out for him to take. "Okay, your majesty. You now."

Peter laughed and shook his head. "Oh, no. I couldn't. Tonight is about Lucy."

Lucy turned to them at the mention of her name, and clapped her hands at what she saw. "Oh, Peter, come dance with us! Please?"

He took one look at her and knew that he would be giving in. He saw no point in delaying this inevitability and sighed. He hesitantly place his hand in the girl's, and she immediately closed her fingers around it and pulled him to where Eric and Lucy stood. "My name's Nora."

"Hello, Nora. I'm a terrible dancer," he informed her very matter-of-factly.

"Oh, your majesty, that doesn't matter. Here," she offered as she brought Eric over. "You know my brother, right? He'll show you what to do."

Eric smiled at him and Peter grimaced, taking a deep breath, looking to Lucy for reassurance. Past her, he could see Edmund seated on the floor, holding his stomach, moaning with the rocking of the ship.

"well come on, then!" Nora said, pulling him away from his brother. Peter nodded and took her hand once more.

A few hours later, Peter and Lucy were sitting in Lucy's room, laughing.

"You were so bad, Pete. Your feet were like blocks of lead, and you stepped on poor Nora's feet so many times! Eric says that he'd need a year to teach you properly. He said you looked like a horse trying to stand on two legs."

Lucy doubled over with laughter, and Peter ignored the insulting, if not true, comment that Lucy's friend had made. "That Eric boy. You like him, don't you?"

"I do."

He nodded. "I could tell."

"No, Peter. I really like him."

Peter smiled. "I know, Luc. Is he why you were so willing to come?"

She avoided his eyes. "Yes."

He gave her the best 'big brother' look he could muster. "Lucy, you had to know that you two wouldn't have forever. You know what has to happen tomorrow."

"Yes." He saw his sister's eyes begin to fill with tears, and he was caught off guard. Lucy had always been the independent one, the feisty one. But now she had fallen prey to love. He felt tension building his shoulders, and he ran a hand through his long blonde locks, trying to ease it.

"Well, Lucy, you still have a choice to make. Listen to you heart. I know you'll do the right thing."

She nodded and wiped her face dry, embarrassed. He put a hand on her shoulder, trying to tell her that it was okay to cry. He never thought he'd need to tell her that. He tried to come up with something to change the topic. "You know what you're wearing tomorrow?"

"The purple one."

Peter raised his eyebrows. "I thought Susan said you were to wear the blue one."

She looked up at him, her eyes narrowed. "Actally it was the green one. But I look terrible in the purple one, Peter."

He smiled. "Ah. Well, I trust you. Get a good night's sleep, okay, Luc? Sweet dreams."

"Sweet dreams, Pete."

He left Lucy's room and heard someone enter her room the moment his own door was closed. As he lay in bed, he could hear low murmurs coming from her room, and he took care not to listen to what they were saying. The summer heat was sweltering, even at night, but lying alone in his bed made for two, Peter felt impossibly cold. He waited until the talking stopped and Lucy's door was opened and closed before letting himself fall into a restless, uneasy sleep.


	4. Chapter 4

Thanks to those of you who have been reading this, I appreciate the feedback.

As for the negative stuff, this is pretty much already finished, so I'm not going to be making any big changes at this point. I appreciate the negative comments, though, because that means you actually _thought_ about it! So, thanks.

Anyways, enjoy the next chapter, kids.

IV

By the time the little island was in sight, the kings and queen were standing nervously at the helm of the ship, the crew working hard to clean the ship and prepare for the end of the trip. Lucy had a lock of hair between her fingers, twirling it almost violently, and she bit her lip so hard that her skin split open gently and blood came seeping out slowly. She ran her tongue over her lip, hoping her brothers wouldn't notice. Peter did, however, and shook his head.

"Lucy, it's all right. Don't be so nervous."

"I can't help it, Peter." The worried expression on her face made him feel terrible, and he put a hand on her shoulder.

"Trust me. It'll be all right." Out of the corner of his eye, Peter could see Eric with a mop, swinging it around in a rather counter-productive manner, with his head hanging.

"Hold on, Luc. I'll be right back."

He walked over to where Eric was standing, with dirty water staining his shoes. His hair was unkempt and he kept his head down. "Forgive me for saying this, your highness," he said mockingly, "but I think that you are the most pitiful, disgusting-"

"Eric, please stop," he said firmly. "I understand how you feel about my sister and this situation, and I sympathize, really, but I will not tolerate this kind of behavior. Raise your head."

The young man strained his neck and looked up at his king. His tear-stained face was dirty, and his eyes were bloodshot and swollen with dark circles like soot powdered beneath them. Peter sighed. "Eric, go clean yourself up. I will allow you to abandon your duties today; you may relax, but you may not speak to Lucy. I can't have her any more upset than she already is. Do you understand?"

"Yes, your majesty."

"Oh, come on, Eric. I'm Peter."

Eric smiled, but it was spoiled by the dark look in his eyes, and it made Peter cringe. "You're Peter when we're dancing with each other's sisters. But when you keep me from my love, you are 'your majesty'." He dropped his mop, and it clanged on the floor with a loud sound that disrupted the loud quiet of the sea. Eric walked away quickly, and Peter stood shaking his head. He tried to shrug it off and turned to his siblings.

He saw Edmund holding up Lucy's skirt with two fingers, inspecting it. Lucy was laughing at herself. She really did look ridiculous, and while Peter had thought it best left unmentioned, Edmund saw it as a way to help her relax. The purple thing was at least two sizes too large and hung well over a few feet onto the floor. The neckline was round and uncentered on her too-small body, and the sleeves were as puffed as pastries, and looked like they were filled with cream. The rough fabric hung over Lucy's body without showing any shape, and the ribbons and ruffles almost buried her. Peter let himself laugh as he walked over to them.

"... Are you trying to look bad, Lucy?" he caught Edmund saying.

"Yes, actually," Lucy set smartly. "Now, if you please, we're just about there."

Peter looked up to see that she was right. The island of Polliere was practically a rainforest: the large trees had at the top of them almost larger leaves that sheltered the ground beneath them. On that ground were an abundance of colourful flowers, purple, orange, blue, with equally colourful birds flying all around, singing their hearts out. The ship jolted to a stop, and the siblings got out, their shoulders touching, Peter leading them. Standing on the beach, far in, they could see Prince Steven and his parents, King Jason and Queen Helen, waiting for them, smiling so large they could see it from a distance.

Peter reached them and put a smile on his own face. "King and Queen, it is an honour to finally meet you both, and your charming son. I hope that our presence will be pleasing to you during our short stay here." He bowed to them, but they only looked at each other, and at Lucy.

The Queen only made a face at Lucy's attire while the King talked. "We understood that you would be taking our Steven back to Narnia with you immediately. We are quite unprepared for all of you to stay. I'm sorry, King Peter, but we simply cannot accommodate you."

Peter was speechless. Was he expected to bring this boy into his country? This stranger? He looked past the King and Queen and eyed the Prince. He was standing with his weight on one leg, a hip stuck out, and he was looking at his nails, looking quite bored. Peter swallowed hard. "So Steven is coming back with us to Narnia?"

The Queen scoffed. "Are you deaf, or just stupid? Just wait until people hear about this, the High King of Narnia is slow. Yes, he's going with you, that's what my husband just told you, isn't it?"

"Yes, your majesty," Peter said politely, choking down his anger, clenching his fist. "Well then, we'd better be off." He turned around and saw his brother and sister standing silently, looking shocked. "You heard them, you two. Let's go." He turned around and shook the hands of the King and Queen. "It was lovely meeting you two."

They rolled their eyes and ushered their son foward. "He only eats greens," his mother said. "He absolutely cannot eat anything that is too rich, too bland, too greasy, or too dry. He requires no less than forty minutes to freshen up in the morning, so please consider that. I think the rest he can handle on his own."

Steven pushed Peter to the side and stood dramatically in front of his parents. "You two, the ones who gave me this wonderful life that I now have, I thank you for this wonderful opportunity, and I tell you now that I shall miss you like the deserts miss the rain!" With a large, sweeping hand gesture, he stepped toward his parents and gave them each a hug, causing his mother to tear. Peter watched, containing his laughter, and pinched Edmund who could not. After the dragged out goodbye ceremony, everyone was piled onto the ship much sooner than expected. Peter could see the crew running around at the unexpected work, and had a word with the captain, explaining the situation.

In the few hours before the ship left again, the monarchs chose to entertain themselves on the ship instead of on Polliere. Eric decided not to take the day off, but did seem to always be cleaning around where Steven had Lucy cornered, reciting bad poetry or pulling her hair in what he thought was a playful way. Edmund only talked to crew members while Peter kept an eye on Lucy. Her fake smiles, her empty laughs, her obvious body language told him that she would be ending this soon. He was almost relived to see her so unhappy with him, and just hoped that she would break her rejection to him gently, and soon.

It seemed like days had passed before they left again. Helen and Jason did not even watch them depart, and their abrupt exit became awkward once the young adults were all alone. The evening was passed in awkward silences that Steve did not notice while he fixed his already perfect light brown curls. Peter resisted the urge to vomit when he pulled out a mirror and examined his eyes, exclaiming that the green was more pure and beautiful than the forest. He was all to eager to sleep at the end of the night, and talked to Lucy before he did.

"I'm sorry that today was so awful, Lucy."

She smiled. "His parents were quite weird, weren't they?"

Peter laughed half-heartedly. "They were. And they think I'm stupid. Well, let them think what they will. Have you come to a decision about Steven yet?"

Lucy started to bite her lip again, and Peter put his arm on hers, looking where she was chewing. She stopped and smiled. "I don't know yet, Pete. I mean, my marriage could bring so much happiness to Narnia. Right?"

Peter nodded. "Yes, that is true. But would you be happy, Lucy?"

Her smile faded, but only a little. "Isn't selflessness a virtue, Peter?"

Peter looked around. "It is, Lucy, but don't take it too far." He looked her in the eyes. "I told you once, but I think I need to again. Listen to your heart, Lucy. The right decision is inside you. You just have to find it. I can't do this for you."

She nodded, and opened the door for him. "I'm going to sleep now, Peter. Goodnight."

"Sweet dreams," he said, and was asleep before his head touched his pillow.

Peter was shook awake. Water was seeping through his windows, and the boat was rocking violently. There were bangs at his door, and he opened it as quickly as he could. Edmund was standing in the hall, holding Lucy's hand. Lucy was holding Eric's hand, and Steven was nowhere to be seen. "What is going on?" It was only then that Peter noticed that he was standing in water, and it was already past his ankles.

"There's been a terrible storm, Peter," Edmund yelled over the noise. "We have to go now or we may drown."

Peter hooked arms with his brother, and they all pulled each other through the rising water onto the deck. The rain was pounding on each of them, and every drop felt like a knife piercing Peter's skin. At the sides of the ship were men helping each other into small boats. He let go of Edmund and grabbed Lucy's arm, dragging her to a boat. Two men reached out for her and pulled her into the boat. She jumped out and ran after Eric, who was busy elsewhere. "I can't leave him!" she screamed.

Peter caught her and pulled her back to the boat. "Keep her inside this boat," he ordered. "She is not to leave this boat!"

The men nodded and held her down. She was crying, but Peter couldn't make out whether the drops on her face were raindrops or teardrops. He wiped his face, but his hands were dirty, and slime spread across his cheeks. He turned away from Lucy, who was being forcibly held back by two men. Seeing her struggle was too much.

He ran over to Eric. "Go with her!"

Eric didn't look at him. "But I'm not a prince, highness."

"Eric, don't be stupid!"

"So I couldn't talk to her earlier, but now you need to subdue her, is that it?"

"Eric, you know that's not it, I just-"

"I love her, Peter! Why can't you see that?"

"Do I not love her, Eric? I am her brother! Do as I say and get into the boat with her!"

Eric's face showed his resignation, and he dropped the ropes he was holding, tried to clean the blood off his hands, and ran over to Lucy. Once Peter saw her sitting with his arms around her, he turned around to look for Edmund.

At that moment, a bolt of lightning struck the center of the ship, and it split in half. He saw men fall into the divide, and prayed that they would survive. Hanging onto the railing of the ship, he could just barely make out Edmund's form swimming toward a boat where Steven was sitting alone. He cursed under his breath, but before he finished, an enormous wave pounded the side of the boat that he had been holding onto, and he was flung into the ocean like a feather. He could not see anyone around him, and he felt his energy draining. As his body sank farther and farther into the water, he wondered to himself how something he had so loved and longed for could be so cruel. His vision became dark. While he was preparing himself for death, he felt a presence behind him, and two strong arms wrapped themselves around his torso. He didn't know if he was worthy of being rescued, but before he could protest, he lost consciousness.


	5. Chapter 5

V

Peter woke up with his hair full of sand and a light, slender body next to his. He could feel the grains rub against each other when he moved, and it was uncomfortable. He could also feel the body, but he lacked the energy to look at it. He coughed, and what seemed like a gallon of water poured out of his mouth, spilling over his face and neck. He sighed, his chest tired from the commotion. His vision was still blurry, and the setting sun shone into his eyes as a wave came in. The water engulfed him, and warmed his strong but shaking body that was covered only by his thin, tattered clothes and some seaweed. The water was drawn back and left him colder than before, though it lingered at his toes.

Next to him, the body sat upright and leaned over him. It was a woman. The sun behind her made shadows on her face, and he could not make out any details. He could only see her eyes, shining with a light that seemed to come from within. She laughed, and the sound was clear as a bell. It relaxed him. His heavy breathing slowed as she rested a hand on his chest, and she began to sing. He could not understand the words, but he didn't need to. It was unlike any sound he had ever heard in his life. The clarity and beauty of her voice drew him to her, and he put a hand over hers. Their hands moved up and down with his breathing. The song seemed to go on forever, and Peter never wanted it to end. The sound was a joyful one that gave him a reason to keep on breathing, to continue to watch their hands move together. She leaned down closer to him. She touched her nose to his, and her soft hair fell around them. She kissed him lightly, her lips like salt, but sweeter than anything he'd ever tasted. In fact, she herself seemed completely different from any other person he'd ever seen. He licked his lips and ignored this, trying to speak to her.

"What's your-"

But her head suddenly snapped upwards, and it seemed that someone was coming. He shifted his eyes to look to see who it was. It was Susan, followed by a few of his guardsmen. He heard splashing, and looked back to the woman. But by then she was gone. His chest was cold where her hand had been, but he could still hear her song, as if from far away.

"Do you hear it, Susan?"

"Hear what, Peter?" She was kneeling in the sand next to him, crying. She took his hand and kissed it. "Hear what?"

"The song. Can't you hear it?"

But her tears only flowed more rapidly. "Peter, there's no music."

"Of course there is Susan. You just have to listen for it."

"I'm sorry I let this happen to you, Peter, I tried the best I could."

He tried to tell her that she didn't have to apologize, that he was so happy to have met this woman that it didn't matter if he died now, because he knew how beautiful the world could be. But instead he said nothing, and waited until he was placed onto his bed, and went to sleep.

He woke up a few days later with Lucy sleeping in an armchair next to his bed. His clothing had been changed; he was only wearing a pair pajama pants. He felt that his energy had returned, and after he slipped a shirt over his head, he shook Lucy awake.

"Hey there, sleepy head. The sun says hello!"

He glanced into a mirror. His hair was messy, but there was colour in his face. The vigor that had returned to his features had also returned to his body, and he felt better than he had in quite a while. Lucy stirred, and as she rubbed her sleepy eyes, he thought of the woman on the beach. Had he imagined her? He didn't know, but he knew he hadn't imagined the singing. If only he had been able to speak, to find out where it was coming from. He was staring out his window, and Lucy was staring at him.

"Feeling better, Pete?"

"Yeah. How long was I out?"

She shrugged. A few days. You had fevers. You were hallucinating, I think you thought I was a monster a few times. You also had bed spins, which were awful. You kept grabbing the posts on your bed, afraid you were going to fly away at any moment."

Peter laughed. "Well at least I don't remember any of that."

"But I do, Peter. It was scary."

He put a hand on her shoulder. "Well, I'm better now, Luc." He positioned himself into a strong stance, with his feet shoulder-width apart and his arm out and bent, ready. "See? Perfectly balanced."

Lucy smiled and pushed his shoulder with one finger, and he lost his footing, and fell dramatically onto the floor. "You got me, Luc. I suppose I'll never get my balance back."

She laughed shyly. "Get up, Pete. I have something I want to tell you."

He stood up and eyed her. "Is this something I really want to hear?" She didn't answer and he sat on his bed across from her.

"I've decided to accept Steven's offer, Peter."

Peter's brow furrowed. She must be lying. His sister would never agree to something so ridiculous. She had seen the way his parents had treated him, how could they be any better for their future daughter-in-law? If anything, they would be worse, sure that she was not good enough for their baby. But the more he stared into her face, he saw that she was serious. "Really, Lucy?"

She nodded. "Eric's mad at me anyway. I did something to him, Peter, and I don't think he'll ever forgive me. So I decided that I should do something for someone else for once. For something that is bigger than just me, or my happiness. I'm doing this for my kingdom, Peter. To show just how much I love my people."

Peter shook his head. "But Lucy, a marriage is not a symbol. If it is a symbol for anything, it is a symbol of love. But not... It is only between... Are you sure?"

"I'm positive." She stood up abruptly. "You should get dressed and come eat dinner with us. Susan will be glad to know you're better. She was quite upset while you were sick."

She walked out, and Peter dressed as quickly as he could, brushing away the few men who tried to help him, knowing he could do it faster himself. He ran out of his bedchamber and into a sitting room where he knew he would find Susan and Taylor. Sure enough, when he got there, they were both reading. He sat down near them.

"Peter!" Susan dropped her book and gave him a hug. "I'm so happy you're feeling better! I can't tell you how worried I've been!"

He put his arms around her and patted her hair. "Yes, Susan, I'm glad to be back. I've heard I was quite a sight."

She laughed, going back to her seat. "Yes, you were."

After a few moments of silence, Peter said, "So you've heard about Lucy's decision, then?"

"Yes," Susan said. "She said she would do what she thought you wanted of her."

Peter's heart ached. He only shook his head again, though. "I just want her to do what she feels is right."

Taylor looked up at him. "Peter, if you don't mind me saying, I think you should let her make her own decisions. This is the decision she's made, and she made it while you weren't there to help her. She has to learn to take care of herself."

Peter nodded. "Yes, I suppose you're right, Taylor."

They sat in silence for a few minutes. Peter scanned the bookshelves. So many titles, so many words. He didn't even bother reading the words. He only stared at their shapes. Susan stood up.

"I'm going to go check on dinner."

And so it went for the next few days, Peter uneasy about his sister's umpcoming marriage, and every else excited to see that he was feeling better. With every daily task Peter went through, he believed less and less that what he had seen on the beach was real, but he couldn't get the song out of his head. It replayed over and over, and he hummed it to himself every night before he laid himself down to sleep. He knew the song was real, he knew the song was more real than Lucy's marriage, than the dinners he attended each night, than the books on the shelves. And it eased his troubled mind.


	6. Chapter 6

VI

Peter couldn't take it. He couldn't handle Steven's incessant babbling, Lucy's tears, Eric's frustration, Susan's planning, Edmund's apathy. And all with they eyes of the kingdom watching, always watching. Every dinner filled with fake laughter, every time he opened the door to a crying girl, every knock on his door, it all took bites out of his insides until he felt like a hollow shell, filled only by sound. A sound that was beginning to fade.

He now sat at dinner with his family. He cut his meat, and Eric, having quit his position on the ship, poured water into his glass. He ignored the looks he and Lucy were giving each other, and how upset Lucy was getting, and tried to concentrate on what Susan was saying.

"I was thinking that the wedding could be in the garden. Flowers would obviously be the main decoration. We could use roses! What do you two think?"

Peter saw Edmund roll his eyes, and Steven clapped. "Oh, Susan, I think it sounds lovely, but I couldn't possibly get married here. Now that I've spent some time here, I realize now how awful this place really is. My parents warned me, but I guess I wanted to be rebellious." He chuckled, apparently at his own stupidity in wanting to come to Narnia. Peter saw Lucy stare at him in horror, her mouth hanging open. Peter cleared his throat, reminding her of her manners. "And besides," he added, "it's dreadfully cold and barren here."

The siblings only looked at him, Susan blinking with shock, and squeezing Taylor's hand. Taylor laughed softly into his napkin, hoping no one would notice, his eyes almost shut, trying to hide their glee.

Peter hit his hands to the table. "I'm finished." he said harshly. "You are all excused if you wish to be." He got up and walked quickly out of the room, only to hear Steven begin his monologue again after he'd left the room. He stood for a moment with his head against the wall, pretending not to notice the servants walking by, not wanting to explain himself, trying to block out Steven's voice. Then he began to walk, first to his bedroom for a cloak, then to the stables. Penny whinnied and neighed, so he didn't bother with a saddle. He pulled himself onto her back and began toward the beach. He had to know.

The ocean was just as it had always been. The moon painted a stripe of silver onto the water, and it shimmered with the motions of the waves. He sat hopelessly atop Penny, looking around, seeing nothing and hearing less. He led Penny to a small pool in the sand where he and Lucy used to look for shells. But now he saw something, and it was bigger than any seashell.

It was a woman. Her pale skin was made paler by the moon. Her naked body shook with cold, and her cheast heaved jaggedly with her breathing, as if her lungs weren't used to the effort. Her body was strewn across some rocks, with water spilling over her limbs. He looked closer, and on her toes, he saw no wrinkles. Her skin was completely smooth and without flaws. For a moment, he was hypnotized. Her faced seemed like that of an angel. But it came into his head that she was not an angel, that she was a naked, cold woman, and he gently wrapped his cloak around her body. He lifted her, and she hung limply in his arms. He walked toward the palace and Penny followed, nudging him forward when he needed it. Though his arms were growing tired, he felt a surge of energy and purpose throughout his body with every step he took.

The short walk to the castle was made shorter when the guards realized what Peter had been carrying. They relived him of her weight and ran her into Cair Paravel, placing her in a guest bedroom and calling for a doctor. Peter overlooked all the confusion, wishing that the men crowded around her bed would have more respect for her. After the doctor confirmed that she would be fine by the next morning, everyone left. Everyone but Peter. He found himself lingering at her bedside, watching her breathe, seeing how her brow furrowed every once in a while with dreams. He tried to leave, but did not want to leave her alone. He sighed and folded his cloak into a pillow, resting his head on the floor next to her bed. The next morning, she shook him awake.

He opened his eyes to see her only a few inches from his face. He screamed out loud, and she backed away from him, leaning on the bed and biting her bottom lip, smiling. She was not wearing his cloak anymore, but a green satin nightgown. It was slightly big on her, and the neckline hung dangerously low. Peter pretended not to notice. In the light, she looked even more like an angel. Her curly red hair bordered on orange and was frizzy, but beautiful and touched the floor. It had a small but long garland of pearls laced throughout her curls, placed on her head like a crown. Her face was covered in freckles, continuing onto her neck and chest, and he could spot them on her arms too. Her eyes were green. He began to wonder if he had met this woman before.

He stood up and held his hand out, and she took it and pulled herself up. "I trust you're feeling better?"

She nodded. After a moment of awkward silence, she hugged him. It happened so fast that it startled Peter, and he almost forgot to return the gesture. Once they were standing apart again, he asked for her name.

She took a deep breath and looked around, her brow furrowed. She touched a hand to her face, looking quite distressed. Peter only watched, too confused almost to say anything. "Do you remember your name?" he tried.

She nodded again. Suddenly her face lit up as she remembered something, and she reached to the top of her head. She gently untangled the pearls, taking Peter's hands and letting the garland fall into his palms. She closed his hands around the necklace and looked into his face. "Pearls?" he asked, shaking his head.

She sighed and looked around again. "Can you speak?" Peter asked gently.

She looked at him for a second, and then shook her head solemnly. Peter nodded, and then remembered what he held in his hands as she pointed to them. "Pearls. Is your name Pearl?"

She smiled, opening her mouth and nodding. Peter held the garland so that it hung down from his hands, and then he hung it around her neck. "Well, Pearl. We should both get dressed, and then we'll try to find out how you got here. Do you remember?"

Her smile faded and she sat down on the bed, nodding.

Peter frowned. "Will you be able to tell us how you got here?"

She looked into his eyes. Peter knew those eyes. He knew that he had seen them that day on the beach. But how could this be the same woman if she couldn't even talk?

She shook her head, and Peter nodded, rubbing his chin. "Well, we'll worry about that later. For now, just get ready to meet my siblings. Is that all right?"

She nodded and then Peter walked out, smiling to her before he closed the door. He heard a lady-in-waiting trying to speak to her, coming to the same realization he had. He leaned against the door and put his hands on his face. "Mute?" he asked himself out loud.

He saw Lucy creeping out from behind a corner, walking slowly toward him. "Lucy, what are you doing here?" he asked.

"Trying to get away from Steven," she said. "If he says one more thing about Polliere, I think I just might have to slap him."

Peter laughed. "You are to be married soon. I imagine that slapping him might not be the wisest choice."

She frowned and sat on the ground. "Peter, do you think I made a bad choice?"

He sat down next to her, still leaning on the door, and thought about her question. "Do you still believe that marrying Steven is the best thing for you to do?"

Lucy nodded. "I do. I just wish that there was a way to explain it to Eric. He doesn't understand."

"Well, why don't you talk to him?"

Lucy opened her mouth to tell him why, but then the door opened, and hit Peter, hard. Lucy laughed and stood up, pulling her oldest brother up with her. "You should know better than to sit in front of a door, Peter," she mocked. Then she noticed Pearl.

"Oh, hello, I didn't see you there." She looked at Peter expectantly, and he remembered his manners.

"Oh, yes. Lucy, this is Pearl, Pearl this is my youngest sister, Lucy."

They shook hands and Pearl smiled nervously. Suddenly, the lady-in-waiting appeared, grabbing Pearl by the arm and pulling her away from them, muttering something about breakfast. Pearl was wearing a beautiful black frock which hugged her hips and outlined her full bosom. He looked down at his own wrinkled clothes, realizing that the reason the lady-in-waiting was sore was Peter's apparel. Pearl made a small wave to him as she was dragged away, and Peter waved back. "I'll find you once I'm dressed, Pearl. I promise."

She smiled, and then was pulled around the corner. Peter turned to walk away, but was stopped by Lucy who pulled on his clothing. "Susan tells me you slept in that woman's room last night."

Peter laughed. "I was on the floor, Lucy."

"Well, I would take care that that information doesn't get spread around, Peter. Susan is trying to find you a wife, you know."

Peter knew perfectly well what Susan was plotting for him. He thought of the small, silent woman walking around the castle, and wondered how he would react if Susan found someone she wanted him to marry. He shook the thought out of his head, and said to Lucy, "Don't worry about it, Luc. I'll be down shortly."

Lucy sighed, exasperated. "Fine, Peter. Hurry up."

Peter walked away to his room. As he changed his clothes, he found himself humming. It was a song that he had almost forgotten, which suddenly was revived in his memory. He smiled, and went to face his siblings.


	7. Chapter 7

VII

Peter sat down across from Pearl. They each sat at opposite heads of the table, and in between them sat Edmund, Steven, Lucy, Taylor, and Susan. A servant placed a fork, knife, and plate in front of each of them. Peter fixed his eyes on the eggs in front of him, stabbing them with his fork, watching the yoke pour out its contents onto the rest of the egg.

Lucy touched his arm and he looked at her. She was pointing to Pearl, who had a lock of hair in her hand and was combing through it with her fork. For a moment, he only watched. He thought it was cute. She stared intently at her hair, watching it grow smoother with each stroke. She was smiling happily, and did not once look up to anyone else at the table. He coughed. "Pearl? Are you okay?" he asked as gently as he could.

She stopped and looked around. Everyone at the table was staring, and Peter could tell that Edmund's coughing was to cover up her laughter. Her expression changed from content to worried, and Peter wished he had handled it differently. He hadn't wanted to embarass her.

"Peter, what is this barbarian doing at the table with us? It's positively humiliating! I won't stand for it!"

"Then you should leave!" Peter boomed. "I will not tolerate this kind of disrespect in my court, Steven, and so help me Aslan, if you insult Narnia or anyone in it once more, I will have you on a ship back to your pitiful little island before you have have time to get your hair curlers. Do I make myself clear?!"

Steven's eyes were each as big as the roll of bread he held in his hand, and he did not so much as blink as he dropped it, and it clanged onto his near-empty plate with a sound louder than his heartbeat, which Peter thought he could see through his clothes.

"I asked you a question!"

Steven was snapped out of his trance. "Cyrstal clear, your highness." He rolled his eyes, and Peter began to grind his teeth to keep his anger at bay. Edmund let his laughs escape, and Taylor followed soon after.

"Will you two control yourselves? This is absurd," Peter snapped at them. He closed his eyes for a moment, touching his temples, trying to regain his train of thought. His anger clouded his memory. Lucy cleared her throat, and Peter opened his eyes to her pointing to Pearl again.

Pearl's face was now covered in fright, and her hand was shaking as she helplessly poked her sausage with her fork, holding it all wrong, trying her best. Peter smiled and wished he could turn her chin up and show her that he was not as scary as he seemed. He wanted to help her. But it was not his place to do so. "Pearl? Do you know how to use that?"

She stopped and looked up at him slowly, almost cringing at him voice. It was too harsh. He cursed under his breath, and she shook her head.

"Lucy, why don't you go help her?"

Lucy nodded and walked over to her, kneeling next to her, guiding her hands. Peter ignored the rest of the table conversation for the remainder of the meal, having finally figured out how to block out Steven's voice. He watched his little sister connect with this woman even without words. Every few minutes, she would look to him, almost as if asking for permission to continue, and he would smile at her. With every smile he gave her, the better he felt.

After the plates had been taken away, Susan approached him. "I want to talk to you for a little while, Peter."

He looked at Pearl, who was laughing silently with Lucy.

"Do you want Lucy to show you arond today?"

Pearl threw her arm around Lucy's shoulders in response, and Lucy laughed even more, puttin an arm around her waist.

Peter sighed and smiled. "Okay. You girls have fun."

Pearl gave him one last smile, and her eyes seemed to shine. Something inside his chest stirred. She waved to him the way she had done earlier, and he couldn't move. He couldn't seem to tear his gaze away from her. Susan grabbed his arm impatiently, and he managed to give her half a smile before they left the room.

Susan walked briskly up a marble set of stairs. "Peter," she began, "I know you've been trying to ignore this, but it's time to face it. Now, I've complied a small group of women that I think you might like."

He stopped walking. "This is about my marriage?"

"Why, yes."

Outside, Peter could hear birds chirpping away happily. He longed for the freedom their wings gave them, loathing the walls that seemed to be closing in around him. He choise his words carefull. "Oh. Well... what did you think of Pearl?"

Susan's laugh pierced his ears, shattering his calm. He began grinding his tetth again, almost cutting open the soft skin on the inside of his cheek.

"Pearl? Are you daft? She's a mute, and not to mention... unaccustommed to court life."

"Susan, I found this girl naked and fainted on the beach. Something very traumatic must have happened to her, we don't know yet."

"Exactly! We know nothing about this woman. Where she's from, her last name, or even how old she is, Peter! I have so much information on these girls, I'm sure we can find someone that's better suited for you." She walked quickly into the sitting room, and organized some papers on a small table.

"That sure worked out for Lucy, didn't it, Susie."

Susan fell into a chair and began to weep, covering her face but unable to quiet her cries. Peter kneeled down next to her and held her hands. "I'm sorry, Susan. I won't call you that again."

She pushed him away and turned her back to him. "That's not it, you dolt," she said tearfully. "Don't you think it breaks my heart to see Lucy so miserable? She's my sister too, you know. I'm shocked that she's decided to marry him. I tried to talk her out of it after I met the boy, but it seems that she's become so spiteful towards me that she intends to go through with it."

"You talked to her?"

"Yes. Well, I tried to. But she won't talk to me, and she'll listen even less."

Peter looked at her for a moment, her weepy eyes and heavy mouth weighing her down almost as much as her sadness and stress did. He sighed, picking up the papers, and sat down next to her. "Well, let's see who we have here."

He pulled a piece of parchment out at random and red the name scrawled on it. "Princess Alaria of Gorey." He turned to Susan. "Is this a joke?"

"No," she said, but she laughed as she did. "I think that she would be the smartest match politically."

Peter laughed loudy, his stomach shaking with the effort. "Sue, don't you remember what happened at that one ball with Princess Alaria?"

"Well, I know that Ed danced with her the whole night, but that's all I noticed."

"You didn't notice that they disappeared for a couple hours after dinner was over?"

"Susan's cheeks turned red, and she smiled. "No, I didn't. Don't you remember that that was the night I met Taylor?"

"How could I forget that, Susan? I just thought you might have noticed that your younger brother was missing."

Susan laughed, her tears now completely dried. "No, I didn't."

Peter shook his head. "Well, they spent a very special evening together, according to Ed, anyway, and when she left the party, he never heard from her again. It nearly broke his heart."

"Well, I could talk to him."

Peter rolled his eyes. "Let's just see who else I can choose from." He looked at the paper on the top of the pile. "Princess Lyra of Loxey."

"Oh, she's not supposed to be in that pile," Susan said quickly.

"Why? She seems perfectly agreeable," Peter replied as he scanned the page, reading of her intelligence and charm.

"Yes, but I've recently found out that she'll probably be engaged soon, and certainly not to you. I've also heard that she..." Susan shook her head and snatched the paper out of his hands, folding it and shoving it into her dress. "Just move on, Pete."

He laughed. "Oh, Susan. Now you have to tell me!"

"No."

She started to smile as he poked her shoulder, and couldn't contain her laughter when he poked her fleshy sides.

"Okay, fine, just stop!"

Peter stopped and waited patiently. Susan sighed. "Apparantly, she tends to ... keep company with her horses. A little too much so."

Peter raised his eyebrows. "Go on," he pressed.

"I've heard that she likes to eat the horses' food and... wear a saddle."

Peter stared at her for a moment before laughing. "Wow. Well, good luck to her future husband."

"Can we just move on, Pete?"

Peter tried to stile his laughed and said okay.

"She's my favourite," Susan said dreamily reaching for the next paper in his hands. "I've met her. She's positively the nicest, kindest, most beautiful woman I've ever met. She's perfect for you, Pete. You should really give her a chance."

He took a look at what she was holding. "Petra of Gales," he read aloud. "Peter and Petra."

Susan smiled at him. "Please? I have a good feeling about her, Pete. Really. Please?"

He sighed. He knew that he would give her a chance, but he was so reluctant. He now regretted having ever told Lucy to give Steven a chance. He felt trapped. He thought of Gales, its shores,the pale look of the land. The whole island seemed bland to him, and so different from the luch beauty that he loveed so much in Narnia, where he had his family, where he had found Pearl. It was then that he remembered.

"susan, Gales and Gorey are on the same tiny island. They're practically the same place."

"Yes? And?"

Peter siged. "Alaria is from Gorey. Remember? She'll probably be there to greet us. You do plan on keeping Edmund a member of the family, don't you?"

An exasperated sigh escaped from Susan's mouth. "Pete, I'l talk to him. It'll be fine. We're leaving in a day, and we'll probably be bringing Petra back with us, the way you did with Steven." She looked around for a moment. "I'm going with you this time. I'll see you later tonight."

The door had only just slammed shut when Lucy threw it open again and came running in, crashing into the chair Peter was seated in, breathing heavily.

"Lucy, what is it?" he asked, almost bored, until he noticed that she was alone. "Where is Pearl?"

He wathced her try to regulate her breathing for a few moments, her chest shining with sweat, rising and falling laboriously. "Lucy, calm down. What's wrong? Is Pearl okay?"

She nodded. "Yes, but you should go to her. Right away. Something's wrong, she seems really frightened or something, and she started to scare me, Peter."

He sighed. He feared for Pearl. He didn't know anything about her, where she was from, who she was, if she could survive in Narnia. But he knew the unexplainable emotions he felt when she was around, how he could finally relax and not feel like he was acting, and he knew that he wanted to do everything in his power to help her. He took a deep breath and led Lucy out of the room, ready to do what was needed of him to take care of Pearl the best he could before he had to leave. Before he was expected to take care of another woman.


	8. Chapter 8

VIII

He came upon her in a small clearing in the garden. She was curled into a ball against a little fountain. The fountain was made of stone, and the water splashed onto her shoulders. He watched her rock herself back and forth, the droplets of water falling down her freckled arms until the dried up in the summer sun. He walked towards her, brushing his fingers against the bushes circling them in.

He felt Lucy tug on his shirt sleeve and turned around, gesturing for her to wait outside of the clearing. She pouted, but let go of the branch she was holding. It snapped back into place, and they were alone.

He looked around. Leaning into the clearing was a weeping willow tree, shading part of the sound. Pearl sat in the sun, however. Surrounding them were rose bushes, and Peter cut his forefinger on a thorn. He touched his finger to his mouth, pressing his tongue to the cut. He sat down as quietly as he could next to her and touched his other hand to her shoulder, wiping away the remnants of the fountain's water. Among the carefully trimmed rosebushes, Peter saw a wildflower sticking out of the ground. His first instinct was to blame the gardeners for letting it grow in his garden, but he let it go.

"Look, Pearl," he said softly. "Do you see that weed?" He pointed to it, and she revealed her eyes like slits above her knees. She let her gaze follow his finger, and he watched her focus on the little flower. "It doesn't belong here," he said. "But look at how beautiful it is, the way it stands out amongst all the roses." She reached out pulled it up, and Peter saw the roots try to keep their hold on the soil as they came up. She dropped the flower into the fountain. It floated on the clear water, and was whipped and thrashed around by the water falling onto it. Its bright blue colors still stood out though. Peter shook his head.

"Pearl, are you all right?"

She lifted her head up and shook it. He saw her look to the side and exhale, her head tilted back slightly. He knew that she felt like crying, and he wondered why she didn't. He shifted his body weight onto his knees. He rested his hands on her knees, but she inhaled sharply and pushed them away, looking ashamed of something. He shook his head on confusion, but then took her in his arms, pulling her head to his chest. She resisted at first, but soon her arms were around him, hugging him tightly. He felt her shaking. He stroked her hair and closed his eyes. "Tell me what's wrong," he whispered.

She pulled herself away from him. She put her hand on her heart. He looked at her eyes, and almost had to look away. They were the most expressive eyes he'd ever seen. It was as if he could feel her pain, and his eyes watered.

"Pearl," he said after he swallowed hard, "I wish I knew your story. But until you can find a way to tell me, I'm going to take care of you, okay? I promise." He brushed his fingers against her cheek. "I'll try my best to make it hurt less."

She put her hand on top of his and squeezed, smiling, but he wasn't fooled. The pain in her eyes had only deepened, and now Peter brought his hand over his chest, and he could feel the beating of his aching heart, slow and steady. She moved toward him, so he could smell her salty sweet breath, so he could feel her rough weathered skin against his which was smooth and delicate. She only just touched her lips to his. He breathed in and felt a chill through his entire body. She pressed a little bit harder, her hands shaking on the back of his neck.

Then, she suddenly drew herself back. She smiled again, more genuinely this time, and then kissed Peter on his cheek.

Peter was glad. As much as he'd wanted to kiss her back, let his worries melt away, press himself into her, he knew that it would be unwise. After all, Lucy was still waiting outside the clearing.

Peter stood up, his legs quivering. He reached his hand out and helper her stand up, her skirts billowing in the breeze. He squeezed her hand a little as he led her out of their clearing, pushing aside roses, reopening his wound. He smiled at Lucy who was huddled under the weeping willow tree with Eric. He almost turned around to Pearl with a finger to his lips to signal for her not to speak, but then thought better of it. He only tugged her through the garden. Before they were out of the garden, Peter stopped and leaned over a small pond. Pearl plopped herself next to it, dipping her fingers into the water, seeming to relish in the feeling of it refreshing her skin. Peter snapped a small water lily away from its pad, and placed it in her hair at her ear, dripping water onto her shoulders.

She smiled and threw her arms around him, hugging him as tightly as she could, getting water all over his clothes. He laughed. "Okay, Pearl, let's go inside. We only have a little bit more time until I have to leave to meet Petra."

At this, she her mouth fell open in shock.

"Did you know I was leaving?"

She shook her head.

"Oh. I'm sorry, Pearl. Tomorrow I have to go meet Princess Petra on Gales. Susan wants us to get married."

Pearl gasped, grabbing his hand and holding it to her chest.

"Don't worry, Pearl. I don't really think I could love anyone other than..." he trailed off, thinking once more of that song which occupied his mind all the time. The song Pearl was incapable of singing. "Well, Pearl, you're my best friend, and I have a feeling that that's not going to change any time soon. I don't want to leave you here alone, though, while we're all sailing to Gales and Gorey. Would you come with us?"

Pearl dropped his hand into her lap, and her eyes grew wide. He could tell that what she was thinking of had little to do with him. He couhed, and she looked at him once more. She smiled and nodded vigorously, standing up and clapping as she did so. He noticed a slight falter in her step, and her face was dark for a moment. But it was only a split second, and then her happiness returned.

Peter decided not to ask her what had happened, and told her that she should go inside to get ready. She practically skipped into the castle, and Peter lingered in the garden, pulling up another water lily, twirling it in his fingers. He watched it spin, wondering if he'd ever be able to suppress his feelings for Pearl. As he sighed, he heard giggles, and Lucy and Eric walked past him, his arm around his shoulders. The sight of Peter seemed to scare him, and he stood up straight and began to apologize to him.

Peter shook his head and laughed. "It's okay, Eric. Just don't let Susan see you two."

"Peter, I want to go with you guys tomorrow."

"Then come."

"I can't, though. I quit my position, remember?"

After Peter sighed, he said, "I'll have a talk with the captain. But I want you to be careful, Eric. She's the queen of Narnia. Don't forget that."

"You're talking about me as if I'm not here!" Lucy pouted and crossed her arms. Peter was about to say something when he heard his name being yelled angrily, and he saw Edmund coming toward them. He sighed and hung his head. He was trying his best. Could he ever do anything right?

"What's this I hear about a trip to Gales and Gorey, Peter?" Edmund asked harshly. Lucy and Eric slipped away, Eric waving to Peter.

"Ed, I tried to talk Susan out of it, but she wouldn't listen to me. You know how she is."

"But Peter, you know what Alaria did to me. How can you still agree to go through with it?"

"Edmund, this could be good for you. You can talk to her, ask her what happened, and finally find out the truth. Maybe she couldn't talk to you again, you never know."

Edmund only stood in front of where Peter was still sitting and breathed hard through his nostrils. "But Peter, what if the same thing happens again? I don't want to be made a fool again."

"Ed, what if this woman Petra thinks I'm the most repulsive man she's ever had to look at? We all have to take chances sometimes, and this is something I think you should go through with, but if you really don't want to go, then you don't have to."

He stood and thought for a moment. "Well, it might be nice to see her again. Don't you remember how beautiful she was, Pete?"

"I remember."

Edmund half smiled. "Fine, I'll go to meet my future sister-in-law, but you had better not force me to talk to Alaria."

"I can't force you to do anything, Ed."

Edmund nodded, and then turned around and walked away, seeming to be extremely preoccupied. Peter sighed a last time before standing up, going to prepare himself for the voyage. He didn't know what to expect, but he knew that he was glad his family would be there with him. And that Pearl would be there too. He smiled, threw the lily back into the water, and went back into Cair Paravel.


	9. Chapter 9

IX

On the ship, Pearl was dancing.

Peter was once again standing in a circle around the dancer, but Pearl was alone. The music was slow and sad, and the look in her eyes almost brought Peter to his knees. She spun and twirled, and every person watching was mesmerized. Peter thought that he had never seen a person move so gracefully, so elegantly. Her movements were fluid, and Peter thought he would melt. He saw the men around him licking their lips, wringing their shirt sleeves in their fingers. He knew what they wanted, and he knew that they wouldn't get it. They wouldn't get her.

He continued to look around and noticed that while he saw Edmund in a trance, Steven looking bored, and Susan and Taylor watching absent-mindedly, he did not see Lucy or Eric. He turned around, searching the deck the best he could in the dark for them, hoping that they weren't getting themselves into trouble. He was about to go look for them when he felt a tug on his sleeve. He turned around, and Pearl pulled him to the center of the circle. She smiled invitingly, and he let himself go with her. He only heard the whoops and cheers of the crew for a moment, and then they all disappeared. All he saw was her. He felt her hands on his hips, his back, his neck, his chest. She produced a flower in her hands and tucked it behind his ears, giggling. He smiled at her, picked her up at her waist and spun her around. He held her closely to him until he noticed that the music had stopped. For a moment, there was silence. Nobody seemed to move at all, but then a single man began to clap, and the rest of them followed suit.

Peter blushed and took Pearl's hand in his, leading her outside the circle. "Come on," he said to her. "I want you to help me find Lucy."

She nodded and followed him, her head down in embarassment from all the attention.

She followed him down a flight of stairs and through a maze of corridors until they were at the crew's eating quarters. He looked at her with a mischevious look in his eyes and smiled. He was listening. Soon he heard breathing and smacking of lips, and he knew that they were there kissing. He laughed softly. "Well, as long as no one sees them," he said. "Do you want to stay here to make sure they don't get caught?"

She shrugged. "Well, I don't want to make you, Pearl."

She smiled and sat down, pulling on his pant legs. He laughed and sat next to her. Peter didn't talk much while they sat together. By the time Lucy and Eric came out of the kitchen, they were asleep, Pearl's head on his shoulder, and he held her tightly.

"Let's not wake them," Eric said. Lucy nodded and they walked hand in hand back to their rooms, leaving Peter and Pearl together on the floor.

A long time passed before the rocking of the ship woke Peter, and he noticed that Eric and Lucy were no longer there for him to guard. He nudged Pearl awake. She halfway opened her eyes, shielding them from the light.

"It's late, Pearl. I'm going to take you to your room."

She nodded, and yielded herself to him. He lifted her from the ground, and she hung on to his neck, resting her head on his shoulder. Her thumb stroked the back of his neck, and he slowed his pace. His fingers tightened their grip on her, and she pulled herself up higher on him. She looked into his eyes and shook her head smiling. He knew what was coming and made no attempt to stop it. She leaned in and kissed him. He stopped walking and let her kiss him. He could feel her passion, and only slightly kissed her back. It was wrong. He was on his way to meet his possible future wife, and here he was in the corridor of a ship, in plain sight, kissing a mute that he found on the beach. But somehow, none of that mattered to him anymore. It was as if this woman's kiss had released something in him that had been trapped for a long time.

He put her down and touched her face. He saw the dark look pass over it again, but this time it stayed for a few seconds. "What's wrong?"

She shook her head and lifted herself into her toes to kiss him again. Something inside him came alive, and he pushed her against the wall, perhaps a little more roughly than he intended to. She only smiled at him though, and grabbed his shirt, pulling him closer to her. She kissed him hungrily and he caught her urgency like a virus. He kissed her with the same hunger she felt, and he was made voracious by her hands on his body.

He was stopped when he heard footsteps above him. He held a finger to her lips. She kissed it softly, holding his hand in hers gingerly, as if afraid to break it. Behind him, he heard a cough. He spun around as fast as he could and saw Susan standing not too far from them, yawning.

"What are you two doing? It's well past midnight."

Peter hoped that her eyes were still blurry with sleep and reached behind him, holding Pearl's hands protectively. "Pearl had a... a nightmare. I was just walking with her until she feels well enough to go back to sleep."

"Okay well, hurry and get back to bed. We'll most likely reach Gales tomorrow. You'll need the sleep."

He watched as she turned around, pulling herself up the stairs. He turned around to Pearl and was about to say something, but then the ship rocked violently, and Peter almost fell over. Fear gripped him, and he gripped her arm. Her touch was calming to him, and soon his heart slowed again, and his fear was a distant memory. Pearl tried to hide her amusement and put her hands through his hair, shaking her head good-naturedly. She patted his shoulder and pulled him back through the maze and to her bedroom. She opened the door and walked in, their hands still clasped tightly, but Peter stopped in the doorway.

"Pearl, I can't. We both need to sleep. Tomorrow... is going to be rough."

Pain entered her eyes again, and he felt the familiar ache deep inside his chest, and he separated their hands. "I'm sorry. Just go to sleep, Pearl." He stepped away from her, and turned to walk to his own room. When he opened his door, he could have sworn he heard her whimper. He shook off the thought, though, and lay in bed, trying to decide what to do. Breaking her heart would break his, but following it would break his family's. He sighed and hummed, the song now vivid in his mind. He preferred to hum himself to sleep than to cry himself to sleep. Crying was weak. He had to stay strong, now more than ever. He couldn't let his guard down again the way he had that night. He resolved to give Petra the chance he'd promised Susan he would, and slept, being endlessly awakened by the sea, and then lulled to sleep by it.


	10. Chapter 10

_X_

Standing before the King and Queen of Gales in their grand palace, Peter was nervous. He twirled his thumbs around each other, trying to loosen his tense body. His siblings stood to either side of him, Lucy beaming, Edmund muttering unintelligibly under his breath. He heard Susan gasp and looked up.

Coming down the stairs was possibly the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. Her hand fell lightly on the banister, and her steps were deliberate but carefree. She was full-figured and curvy, and her hips swung as she walked. Her brown hair reached just past her shoulders and fell in soft, loose waves, shining with the yellow light spilling in through the windows. Her skin was sun-kissed and smooth, and her cheeks were flushed a soft pink. Her smile was big and genuine, and it lit up her brown eyes as she stood next to her parents, looking at Peter. He felt her sizing him up. He stood a little taller, puffed out his chest ever so slightly, and clenched his fists under her gaze. She bit her lip and smiled nervously at him, clutching a beautiful gold chain around her neck with a small shell hanging from it.

Peter didn't notice the servants scurrying past them with her belongings, he didn't notice the small talk that Susan conducted at his silence. Most especially, he didn't notice Pearl making faces at him, trying to get him to smile, to laugh, to yell, to look at her. He didn't notice that he

was breaking her heart.

Eventually he and Petra were left alone. While the others were off preparing for their departure, they stood apart from each other. Pearl tucked herself into a corner and watched.

"So. Are you nervous?"

Peter was thrown off by the sudden question. "Well, I suppose so, but we all do what we must, right? And besides, now that I've met you, I'm a great deal less nervous."

She smiled. _"I'm_ still nervous. I don't even know anything about you, King Peter," she confessed.

"Why don't you tell me something about yourself, and then I'll see if you're worth marrying," he joked. "What is your favourite thing to do?"

She bit her lip again as she thought. "What I love to do the most is sing."

Peter raised his eyebrows. "Will you sing something for me?"

She laughed. "Not yet, highness. Another time. But for now, I want to hear something about you. Something that only your future wife would know."

The words struck him, but he remained composed. It suddenly hit him. He was to marry this woman. He tried to shake the thought off and though. "Uh.." He faltered a little. "I have a weakness for the sea," he said finally.

She gasped. "I do too! Look," she said, picking up her necklace. "My father took me fishing with him once, even though he wasn't supposed to. You know how fishing isn't a satisfactory way for a young lady to be spending her time. He brought me anyway. The only thing I caught the whole day was a corset, and this shell. I thought that it was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. My father told me that it was probably home for a litle crab once. He said it was almost as beautiful as I was." She smiled and fondled the little green shell in her hands, happy to remember the moment.

Peter held his hand out to her, impressed by her anecdote. "Come on." She took his hand shyly and trailed behind him. Pearl panicked and came running out from her corner, trying to get through the door before Peter did, but she just ended up running into him. "Oh, Pearl! I'm so glad to see you!"

He pulled Petra foward and slipped an arm around her waist, letting his hand rest on her hip bone. "Pearl, this is Petra. Petra, this is Pearl." He was beaming. "I hope for you two to become great friends" He smiled warmly at the two women. "Pearl, are you all right?"

While Petra only laughed, Pearl stared at her in shock. She slowly lifted her arm to point at the shell on Petra's neckalce. "Pearl, we should probably head back to the ship now." He began to walk, and Petra caught his hand in hers, holding firlmy but gently. Pearl walked behind them. Peter's face warmed. He liked Petra. He couldn't help it. While Pearl was pretty, Petra was gorgeous. She outshone Pearl from all aspects, she came from a practically perfect family, she was kind. And she could talk to him. And sing to him. He looked at her and smiled. She looked at him and their eyes locked. He felt a dull sort of pain behind his eyelids, but he was mesmerized. He only broke his gaze when Edmund ran up to him.

"Peter! You have to help me!"

"Ed, what's going on?"

"Alaria is over there! What should I do?"

Without making a sound, Pearl tapped him on the shoulder and hooked her arm into his. She gave him a look, and Edmund understood. They walked behind Peter and Petra past Alaria in silence, and Edmund didn't turn his head when she waved to him.

Later that evening, Peter was sitting alone with Petra again. She was singing for him. They had spent the entire day together, and something about her made him forget about everyone else in the world. Her voice was high and sweet, and she looked at him as she sang. Peter thought that he would feel uncomfortable, but her music was soothing. He knew it was a voice that he had heard before. He didn't know how it was possible, but he knew he recognized her voice as she sang:

_My river runs to thee: _

_Blue sea, wilt welcome me? _

_My river waits reply. _

_Oh sea, look graciously! _

_I 'll fetch thee brooks _

_From spotted nooks,— _

_Say, sea, _

_Take me! _

She finished, and Peter, almost involuntarily, reached for her, wrapping his arms around her and pressing her head against his chest. He could feel her smiling against his cloths, and he leaned back onto a wall, closing his eyes. He heard someone walking past him and out the door, and he thought that for the first time, he finally felt complete. He fell asleep with Petra, hoping that his dreams might keep him with her in sleep.


	11. Chapter 11

_XI_

When Pearl left Peter's room, she was cold. She held her arms and rubbed her skin as she slowly walked. The moon was low in the sky, full and yellow. Her toes felt the cold surface of the ship that was almost wet, and she tried to comfort herself. With every step, she felt daggers break through her heels into her calves and up to her knees. She thought that she might get used to it, but the pain felt new every time it came. Peter had once told her that he had never seen anyone step as lightly or as gracefully as she did, but he knew nothing of what she endured. And now he had seen Petra, who was perfect in every way.

If only Peter knew what she had given up for him. She loved him. She had loved him from the moment she peered into the false yellow light which was so foreign to her then, but so familiar to her now. His movements seemed so genuine, his smile shone, and the way he touched his partner made her want him to touch her like that. Like he would break her if he held her even a little bit to tightly. She had felt that tenderness whenever he touched her, and she loved feeling as if she was being taken care of.

She knew that what she had given up for him was ridiculous. Not only had she lost her voice and edured a pain that never dulled, that she would never get used to, but she had also abandoned her father, her mother, her sisters. And most of all, her grandmother. Pearl was beginning to forget what her grandmother even looked like. Sometimes she wondered if he was worth it all, but she had only to look at him to know that it was. She only had to look into his eyes and see her feelings reflecting in them as if in a mirror to know that she had made the right choice.

A year ago, after her sister that was only a year her senior had swam to the surface, her grandmother had tucked a flower around her ear and explained to her the difference between humans and mermaids. Pearl couldn't understand why such young sailors sunk to the bottom of the sea when she would live for hundreds of years. Her grandmother had tried to explain the concept of a soul to her, but she couldn't understand it. She knew that mermaids after death turned into the foam on the sea, but the idea of a soul living forever was something she couldn't grasp. All she knew was that she wanted one. She wanted to live forever. With Peter.

Pearl leaned onto the side of the ship, letting the soft breeze life her hair off of her shoulders. She was staring at the sea foam, hating it for existing, hating it for its call. She knew her time was running out. The waves turned jagged, and soon he saw her eldest sister staring at her with her dark brown eyes. She would have gasped if she had had the voice for it. Her sister's once long, wavy, brown hair was now cut shorter than Peter's and was a pale blonde colour. Her most prized possession, looking as if it had been hacked off with a clam.

"Pearl," she whispered harshly, "our sisters and I have missed you greatly. We have all sacrificed to give you this one last chance."

She closed her eyes, and in Pearl's hands appeared a dagger. She gasped and nearly dropped the thing in fright. It was a cold, dark grey, crudely cut but deathly sharp. The hand had ivory vines carved into it, and at its butt was a dull red heart, outlined with silver roses. She wished she could cry as she had seen Lucy do, but she was not physically capable. She signed with a moan that got caught in her throat and cut off by her tongue. She tightened her grip on the dagger and flet the blade digging into her flesh.

"You must kill him," her sister begged, "else _you_ will die. It's hopeless, Pearl. He'll never love you. This is your only chance. Don't break our grandmother's heart once more." Her head jerked a bit as if she suddenly became aware of something, and with a splash she was gone, and Pearl was left shivering and alone. She felt her knees give way and tried to help herself sit down.

She leaned against the side of the ship, peering through the rail to the foam once more. Her chest heaved with sobs that weren't there, but soon she heard something. She whipped her head around and would have screamed had she been capable. Never had Pearl seen such a creature. The beast blew air through its nostrils and shook out its mane.

"Don't be afraid, Pearl."

The boom of the creature's voice rang in her ears and startled her. Pearl could feel the blood from her fingers dripping down her arm and onto her nightgown, but she only held onto the dagger more tightly.

"Pearl, I know what plagues you. I know of your pain, and of everything you have gone through. I can help you, but only so much. In twenty-four hours, you will regain your voice. You will also regain your fin, Pearl. After that, you will have only a short time before you are premanently confined to the bottom of the sea. You will have another twenty-four hours. In two days you will either have acquired your soul, or you must return to the ocean."

Pearl didn't understand. She didn't know where this thing had come from, how it had gotten there, why it was talking to her, how it knew about her life, why she couldn't have more time. And she didn't understand how she could get a soul.

The creature shook its head, and she could have sworn she saw it smile. "Pearl, all your questions will be answered in time, but right now I will answer one of them. If your lips are to ever meet Peter's, part of his soul will emerge to form your soul, yet his will remain completely intact. There must be great love in this kiss for it to occur, though, Pearl. He must love you."

She nodded. The beast's gaze led her to look at Peter through the open cabin door. In his sleep, he was stroking Petra's hair lovingly, her head yielding to his slow breathing movements. She looked back to the creature, but he was gone. She stared at the dagger in her hands, her eyes dry and her throat still. She touched the tip of the blade, grazing her skin, tracing the wound and the now dry blood through her fingers. She wished she could cry. She wanted to cry. If only she could. She only stared at him, imagining that it was her in his arms, that his fingers were in her hair, that he was kissing her skin, nursing her wound. She fell asleep on the deck, cold and sad, hugging the dagger to her chest, wondering whether she should use it to kill Peter or to kill Petra.


End file.
